


Days Gone By

by reigningqueenofwords



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-25 01:38:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19735756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reigningqueenofwords/pseuds/reigningqueenofwords





	1. Chapter 1

When you got pregnant with your first child, you didn’t expect Dean to stop hunting. You didn’t even expect him there for holidays the first year or two. It’s not like someone that young would remember.

When your daughter was 4, you got pregnant again. He hadn’t seemed to make an effort to be home for Christmas or her birthday in all her life. You hoped that having two at home would change that. Christmas came and went, no Dean.

When your daughter was 6, and your son was 2, you got pregnant with your youngest. In the past 6 years, he’d been home for one Christmas. You knew that he loved the kids, but it was heartbreaking. Hearing them ask for Daddy, just to have him out on the road. 

When your youngest was 4, you’d had enough. Christmas was in 2 weeks, and he’d made no sign that he planned on being home. You decided as you fell asleep in your empty bed, that this would make or break your marriage.

Days came and went, presents were wrapped, the bunker decked out, children’s Christmas movies were on constantly, and it killed you that the older two hadn’t bothered ask for Dean once. They knew Daddy wouldn’t be home for Christmas, but your youngest hadn’t realized that just yet.

Christmas Eve came and you were all sitting around the computer, with Skype loaded. “Hey, guys!” Dean grinned. “Daddy misses you.”

“Miss you, too, Daddy!” They yelled back, and you had to keep any anger from your face.

He chuckled. “Awe, I wish I was there. How about you let me see you open something?”

One by one, they each opened one gift, Dean’s eyes watching them lovingly. Almost right after, he had to go. They said their goodnights, and shut the laptop. Sighing, you helped them all get ready for bed, going through the motions.

* * *

Christmas day, it was just you, and your three kids. You watched them happily rip open their gifts, excited over what they had been given. As you cleaned up the mess, they ran around the bunker together. You were thankful that they had each other.

That night, as they slept, you packed your own bag. You’d pack them each something in the morning. Just a small bag or two, knowing you’d have to come back for the rest. Then came the job of explaining things to the kids.

You’d barely slept a wink before you were woken up by your youngest jumping on your bed. “I’m up, I’m up!” You laughed. “Go get dressed, kiddo.” Closing your eyes and sighing as the sound of small footsteps faded, you felt like you were going to be sick.

* * *

Dean walked back in the bunker, dropping his bag as he walked in on January 3rd. “Baby! I’m home!” He called out, surprised that he didn’t hear his kids running to him, or you greeting him with open arms. Furrowing his brows, he started looking through every room. Their rooms looked a bit cleaner, but he thought nothing of it. You were always trying to downsize.

It was what was lying on his pillow that killed him. Your wedding bands, and a note.

_Guess you really are a Winchester._

_Like father, like son_. 


	2. Days Gone By

_Dean walked back in the bunker, dropping his bag as he walked in on January 3rd. “Baby! I’m home!” He called out, surprised that he didn’t hear his kids running to him, or you greeting him with open arms. Furrowing his brows, he started looking through every room. Their rooms looked a bit cleaner, but he thought nothing of it. You were always trying to downsize.  
_

_It was what was lying on his pillow that killed him. Your wedding bands, and a note.  
_

**_Guess you really are a Winchester._ **

**_Like father, like son._ **

* * *

It felt as though his world came crashing down around him. His eyes never left the note as he sat on the side of the bed. Taking a deep breath, tears starting to fall as he opened his hand. Your simple wedding ring set was in his palm, mocking him.

He had no way to know when you’d left, but he did know where you would go. You would go straight to your sisters. She was your best friend, and knew all about what he did.

The words from the paper were eating at him. It didn’t take him long to realize what you meant. He’d been on the road, hunting, missing birthdays, Christmas’s, first steps…everything. His chest ached and sobs shook his body. Clutching your wedding ring set, he couldn’t remember ever hurting this badly. Sam was off on his honeymoon, and Dean had no idea how long he’d be unreachable. 

* * *

## – Jan 4 –

He’d barely slept, waking up feeling like a zombie. Shuffling through the bunker to the kitchen, it felt like all the life was sucked from his home.

All day, he went through the motions. Constant reminders of his family hitting him, never letting the pain ease up. Barbie dolls, soccer balls, stuffed animals, kids books, and tiny shoes. Each one cut him deeper and deeper. 

* * *

## – Jan 7 –

Dean was barely holding it together. He couldn’t sleep in the room he had shared with you, the bed where he held you, where he’d made love to you. He slept in a spare room. If you could call it sleeping.

Come lunch time that afternoon, he caved. There had been no texts, no calls, nothing. He was going insane. The thought of eating just made him sick. Grabbing his cell phone, he called your sisters house, hoping that you’d talk to him. 


	3. Merry Christmas, Dean

If felt like an eternity before before Dean heard any indication that the phone was picked up. “Hello?” Came your sister’s voice.

“Hey, it’s Dean.” He sighed.

“You’ve got some real nerve, Winchester.” She hissed at him. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done to her? To your kids!”

His head fell, knowing that he’d been shit to them. “I can only imagine.” He admitted.

“No. You can’t.” She replied. “Your 10 year old daughter? Completely fine. Shows no sign that she’s not living at home anymore because Daddy was never there. Your youngest? Has to be held to sleep, crying.”

Swallowing, he took a deep breath. “I royally messed up. I need to see her. I need to see them. It’s killing me, Y/S/N. Please, I’m begging you, let me some see her.” Getting past her was vital in seeing you.

“I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this.”

“You always were my favorite sister in law.” He teased, wincing at how awkward things were between them.

“Dean, I’m your only sister in law.” She deadpanned. “See you when you get here.” 

* * *

You were sitting in the living room with your sister, sipping a glass of wine when there was a knock at the door. The children were all tucked in, so you considered yourself clocked out until one of them woke up. Your sister got up, knowing exactly who it was.

Letting your head rest on the back of the couch, your eyes closed for a moment, only to snap open at his voice. “Hey.” He said, and you could picture him rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“She’s in the living room.”

There were footsteps before he was in the doorway. “Hey, baby.” He gave you a sad smile. “Can I talk to you?”

You sighed, setting your wineglass down on the coffee table. “I guess.” Your heart ached, and all you wanted was to rush into his arms.

  
Dean sat at the end of the couch, sighing. “I’m sorry. It hadn’t even hit me that I’d been such a shitty husband, and an even worse father.”

That killed you. “No, Dean, you’re not a shitty husband, or father. When you’re home, you’re amazing. You play with them, you help them learn to tie their shoes, to ride their bikes, and how to clean a gun.” You teased him with the last part.

He shook his head. “How many Christmases did I miss? Birthdays? First steps? First words? How fucking much because I’m too much like my father?” The tears were welling up in his eyes. “What can I do to have my family back? How can I fix this?”

You thought for a minute. “I’ll give you one year to prove that you can change, and that those kids come first.”

“What do I do?” Dean asked, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Touching his cheek gently, you leaned forward and kissed him gently. “That’s something you have to figure out for yourself.”

* * *

Dean fought hard for his family. You were staying with your sister for that year. Since her and your brother in law worked, you played the part of stay at home mom and housewife. You were used to keeping busy, so you had a routine.

Every holiday, Dean was on that doorstep, a hopeful smile on his face. In his arms would be thoughtful gifts for the kids- making up for everything he’d missed out on.

Valentine’s Day, Easter, Fourth of July…it didn’t matter what the holiday was- he was there. Sam even came for a few, as well. No hunt came before his family.

It was Christmas Eve, one year from the day you’d Skyped your husband, anger coursing through you. You knew that Dean was packing his bag to make the trip to your sister’s, as you’d spoken to him the day before.

“DADDY!” Dean heard the chorus of voices echo through the bunker halls. Sounds that he’d ached for. “DADDY! DADDY!” They called out, each of them going off in a different direction for find their father.

He rushed out to see you smiling, a grin forming on his face. “Baby?” He asked.

You ran to him, pulling him into a loving kiss. “Merry Christmas, Dean. We’re home.” You breathed against his lips.


	4. Didn’t Make It

You’d piled the kids into the car, loaded their bags, and silently cried as you pulled away from what had been your home for so long. Your oldest watched you, old enough to know that this had to do with her father. Her eyes moved to watch out the window, the rain coming down faster and faster.

“You guys hungry?” You asked, wiping your cheeks. “We can stop and get something to eat. How’s that sound?”

“Can I have a Kit-Kat?” Came the voice of your 6 year old son.

You chuckled lightly. “Let’s get you something else first, and then you can have a Kit-Kat. How about I drive through McDonald’s?”

“If he’s getting a Kit-Kat, can I have a bag of M&Ms?” Your daughter spoke up.

“I want Daddy….” The voice of your youngest cut you to the core.

* * *

It was December 26th, and traffic was getting worse. You had a feeling it would add some serious time to your trip. That’s the last thing that you wanted with three children in the back. The first couple hours wasn’t too bad. It was about 3.5 hours into the trip when they started in.

“Stop!”

“That’s mine!”

“MOM! He won’t stop kicking!”

In the small space of the car, you were quickly getting a headache. Glancing over your shoulder at them for a moment, you sighed. “Can you guys please quit it?!” You snapped. As you went to turn back towards the front, your daughter let out an ear splitting scream.

* * *

Dean paced, running his hand through his hair while he waited for someone- anyone to pick up. Finally, he was given exactly what he wanted. “Hello?” Dean could tell it was your sister’s voice, but something sounded off.

“Y/S/N?” He asked. “Look, I know that you’re not my biggest fan, but I’d really like to come talk to my wife.” Hearing a choked sob, he was confused. “We’ve had our issues, but don’t all married couples? I screwed up, I know…”

There was a moment’s pause. “Dean…” She breathed. “Y/N and the kids…never made it.”

He froze. “What do you mean she didn’t make it?!”

“There was an accident.” Dean’s blood ran cold. “She was supposed to be here the 27th.” She sniffed. “The accident was the night of the 26th.”


End file.
